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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800434">Sugar Water</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookybussy/pseuds/spookybussy'>spookybussy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Breathplay, Choking, Comeplay, Dry Humping, M/M, Masturbation, Mike Hanlon is a Good Friend, Rebellion, Underage Sex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 00:41:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,199</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24800434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/spookybussy/pseuds/spookybussy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Eddie is sick of using his inhaler. He asks Mike to help him out.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Mike Hanlon/Eddie Kaspbrak</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>55</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Sugar Water</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>read the tags. they're about 13ish in this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Eddie has been acting differently lately. </p><p>Mike knows he’s not Richie, or even Bill, and that he’s not an expert on how Eddie <em> usually </em> acts. Mike is the newest to the group, and he feels that fact in the mushy parts of him between his bones and skin. Even though it’s been almost two whole months since they rescued him from Bowers, and they all call him <em> Mikey </em> or <em> Homeschool </em> or <em> Big Guy </em> with bursting affection, the otherness Mike feels persists. </p><p>He feels it with his hands, when he flips one palm up and asks Richie for a low five and Richie says <em> Mike, did all the brown rub off your palms from jerking it so much? </em>He feels it with his legs, thighs and calves scarred from choring quicker and messier than he should so he can try and meet up with his new friends as fast as he can. He feels it with his shoulders and the back of his neck, sore and on fire from holding Eddie during chicken at the quarry, feeling Eddie’s slim wet thighs twist and clench around his neck while Stan tries to push him beneath the water. </p><p>Mike is different, and he’s starting to think Eddie might be, too. </p><p>Right now, Mike sees Eddie pull out a cigarette and light it. They’re at the clubhouse, just the two of them. Eddie asked him to hang out, said he needed help with something and trusts Mike the most. Mike thinks maybe Eddie just said that because he knows feeling needed will make Mike do basically anything. Eddie paces around, scuffing his socks and Keds full of dirt, taking shallow pulls off of the cigarette. Mike sits on the ground, looking up, dumbstruck. Eddie is still so small that even sitting criss cross on the ground, he comes up to Eddie’s waist. </p><p>“Ya know, my mom would kill me if she knew I had this.” Eddie twirls the cigarette around in his slender fingers, almost like he’s inspecting it. Mike watches the smoke curl up around Eddie’s pointed jaw, round-apple cheeks. “But she can feed me fake drugs for years, who even knows what was in that shit. It’s fucking bullshit.”</p><p>On Eddie’s fifth pace across his sight line, Mike grabs his wrist, delicate and soft. Mike’s fingers completely circle around Eddie and the fact that there’s <em> overlap </em> has Mike’s face as warm as if he was fresh off the field. Eddie’s red mouth pops open, looking down at Mike with pinched brows, the cigarette falling loosely out of this grip.</p><p>“What’s goin’ on, Eddie?”</p><p>Eddie stares at him for a few more long seconds before something seems to change. Eddie nods resolutely, letting out a puff of air, and sits down next to Mike.  </p><p>“I don’t want to use my inhaler anymore.”</p><p>Eddie sounds exasperated and Mike knows. They all know. After the sewers, whenever Eddie gets worked up the way he often does, he still reaches for his inhaler despite <em> knowing </em>it’s bogus. He tries to go as long as he can before submitting to the piece of plastic. Everyone is silent and awkward around him while he gasps, not knowing how to help him. Eddie ends up grabbing it and taking a huge rip to calm himself. His big cow eyes look so sad after, disappointed in himself.</p><p>“It’s like, I know it’s fake or whatever, I do. But when I get nervous, or I can’t breathe… I just get too scared. I get so scared that I’ll never breathe again.”</p><p>Eddie’s hot, sticky thigh is pressed against Mike’s where they’re seated next to each other on the dirt and he’s playing with Mike’s fingers, kneading the calloused flesh of Mike’s palm. Mike watches as his fingers involuntarily stretch out like a cat’s claws when you push on the pads of their foot. He tried to drop Eddie’s wrist when he sat down, but Eddie just wouldn’t let him.</p><p>“I get so scared that I give in, and just use the stupid thing. I don’t wanna be scared of it.”</p><p>Mike’s eyes lift from watching their hands touch up to Eddie’s sweet face. He looks at Eddie’s straight-line brows, dark lashes, freckles scattered over his slightly upturned nose, his small-set chapped red lips. Mike swallows.</p><p>“Scared of what?” Mike says eye contact snapping back into place. </p><p>“Scared of not breathing.” Eddie complains, his head thrown back, throat arching as he fidgets and rests the jumble of their hands together on his own thighs. Eddie turns to face Mike. Mike can feel their heat-damp leg skin pull apart from each other as he shifts, like those gel-sticky hand shaped toys Richie is obsessed with slapping against walls. Mike blushes and thinks his skin is unwilling to let Eddie’s go.  </p><p>“So, I want to practice. Uh. With you.” Eddie’s words are disjointed and he turns red, but Mike doesn’t know <em> why </em> or what that <em> means.</em> Eddie is so brave. Eddie was able to throw boulders and kick aliens in the mouth and Mike can’t even kill a sheep. He has no idea how Eddie wants him to help. But...</p><p>“How?”</p><p>Eddie smiles like he’s winning something, maybe he is, Mike’s not totally sure yet. But Eddie reaches over, grabs Mike’s right hand again and slowly pulls it up to his small neck. Mike can feel his mouth opening to ask why or what exactly he’s supposed to be doing, when Eddie covers Mike's long, dark fingers with his own and <em> squeezes</em>. Shocked stiff, Mike leaves his hand there, resting gently along the thin skin and sharp bones of Eddie’s neck.</p><p>“So, you choke me until I can’t breathe.” Mike can feel the vibrations of Eddie talking into his palm, tingling up his forearm, filling the veins in his wrist. “Until I stop getting scared or get used to it.”</p><p>“Eddie... I can’t do that. You could pass out or something.” Mike’s hand rests delicately on Eddie, slips a little to his collarbone, grazes the neck of his dirty Power Rangers shirt. Eddie rolls his eyes, Mike is transfixed.</p><p>“Mikey, c’mon. I need you because I know you wouldn’t go too far by accident. And you’re strong, you won’t even have to<em> try </em> to fight me off if I freak out too much.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> I need you. I need you. I need you. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Mike’s mouth is bone-dry, his tongue feels like a slug, fat and slow behind his teeth like when he humps into his own hand at night sometimes. Mike doesn’t know why he feels like that now, looking at Eddie shifting from his cross legged position down to… laying in the dirt. </p><p>“What are you doing now?”</p><p>“Laying down. C’mere.” Mike looks down at where Eddie’s shorts have ridden up from stretching out on the ground, his upper thighs creamy and pale in comparison from his tan line. Mike tries not to think about lying between them and seeing the sharp contrast of his hands opening them up, while he— Calms down. He’s gotta calm down. They’re not supposed to be doing this, but he<em> wants </em> to so <em> badly </em> and he has no idea why. </p><p>Mike moves quickly, knees resting on either side of Eddie’s thighs, unsure if he should keep propped up or take a seat on Eddie’s body. He looks down and Eddie’s looking right back at him, wide eyes with a bitten lip and blotches of pink already growing on his soft cheeks, his fluffy hair falling messily from laying flat on his back. Mike gulps. He sits down softly on Eddie’s fleshy lower stomach, so all his weight doesn’t fall to his hand closed around Eddie’s throat. Mike places the flat palm of his hand back against Eddie’s Adam's apple, his arm flinching on the way there like someone is trying to jerk him away. He feels Eddie swallow, sees him lick his lips.</p><p>“Okay, Mikey, do it.” Eddie sounds… weird. Out of it. Like how his grandpa sometimes sounds when he’s done with work and has a few of his grown up drinks. Mike wonders if Eddie humps his hands at night, too.</p><p>Mike’s hand stretches out until he feels a slight burn in the webs between his fingers and takes hold. He doesn’t know why he agreed to this, knows if any of the others come down right now they would be humiliated. Eddie's breath stutters and shortens under his fingertips and Mike’s spine feels like it's rolling over and kicking around, like one of the farm dogs begging for a treat. He tries to focus less on the clubhouse door above them and more on not getting too carried away.  </p><p>Eddie’s face darkens in hue, but his expression is the same. Probably trying to zen out and not react. Mike squeezes his hand a little bit tighter, senses how easy it would be to break one of the brittle bones there. Mike knows he’s stronger and bigger than your average thirteen year old boy, and it makes him feel powerful, perched above Eddie and holding him down. It makes his size feel useful and purposeful instead of awkward and shameful.</p><p>Eddie’s lips shine with spit as he gasps, his mouth falls open and his eyes bulge wider. Eddie kicks his legs out against the dirt and leaves on the clubhouse floor, Mike can hear them scrabble behind him. Eddie’s skinny arms twitch, like he’s going to push Mike’s body off, but he thinks better of it and pins his own wrists back down on the ground. He’s being a good boy.</p><p>Eddie’s wet pink tongue starts to poke out of his lips between his straight teeth and Mike keeps his grip tight. Eddie <em> needs </em> Mike to hold him down and resist his own conscience. Eddie <em> trusts </em> him to do this, he needs to follow through. </p><p>Mike’s other hand joins the first and he squeezes Eddie’s thin neck harder, adjusts his thighs to scoot himself back so he can get better leverage. His ass slides down over Eddie’s fly until he feels a bump, small and hard, in Eddie’s shorts. It's probably Eddie’s inhaler, so Mike lifts his hips a fraction, worried about snapping the plastic. Eddie’s scrawny hips gyrate and he whines like it’s ripping out of him. Mike thinks he sounds like the cats in his barn that his Grandpa tells him not to feed, or they’ll come back every day. Mike sure hopes Eddie comes back every day.</p><p>Eddie’s face is almost purple now, and his eyes roll back in his skull. His soft mouth opens wider than Mike’s ever seen, little gurgling noises come out while he tries desperately to pull in some air. Mike’s dick twitches, suddenly so heavy against his thigh and he quickly lets go of Eddie’s neck in shock.</p><p>Eddie gasps loud and sudden as he’s released, like he’s trying to suck all the air right out of the room. Mike feels like he’s the one being choked, he’s so light headed. His cock never gets this hard this quickly when he’s alone in his room. Mike stands up, desperate to get away from Eddie before he notices, but his legs feel like he’s been walking for days and miles on end. He leans on the wall and looks through his lashes at Eddie, hearing his own pulse pound in his eardrums.</p><p>Eddie lies prone in the dirt, hands shaking visibly where they rest on his chest, padded with baby fat still, nipples puffy through his shirt. Eddie breathes hard, face going from raspberry to bubblegum under his freckles as he calms down. Eddie’s eyes flutter under the intricate blue-green veins on his eyelids before they open, his brow scrunches up as he looks around like he’s trying to find Mike. Eddie’s eyes land on his and Mike’s heart launches into his throat at how vulnerable he looks, flat on his back and panting. His big, wet, <em> pretty </em> eyes completely unguarded. He watches Eddie’s throat bob.</p><p>Mike can’t look away from Eddie’s hooded eyes, but he sees Eddie’s hands slowly inch down his torso out of his periphery. Mike has his own two hands covering where his cock is still full in his shorts, he knows it makes his situation obvious but he doesn’t know what else to <em> do</em>. His eyes burn with embarrassment and sting with tears. He’s hard while he was trying to help his friend and Eddie’s going to <em> know </em> and— </p><p>Eddie bites at his own slippery mouth before breaking eye contact to look down at his own hands which are now cupping the little bulge in his red shorts. The bulge that is most definitely not his inhaler. Mike’s eyes go wide and his fists clench so tight, he’s convinced he can hear the bones in his hands clack together in the dead silence of the clubhouse. Eddie’s small hands push against his dick, his bony hips arching off the ground as he thrusts once into his cupped hands. Mike’s mouth is a desert, hot and dry as he snaps it shut with a click of teeth and tries to swallow some moisture back onto his tongue. Eddie looks away from his own hands and cock in astonishment, right into Mike’s eyes.</p><p>“Mikey, <em> please.</em>” Eddie <em> whines.</em></p><p>Mike feels it like a punch in the sternum.</p><p>“W-what?” He breathes out.</p><p>“Mike. Need you.” </p><p>All Mike hears is<em> needneedneed. </em>He’s back to Eddie’s side in seconds.</p><p>Mike kneels down next to Eddie, who is still pressing little aborted thrusts into his open palms. His shirt rides up on his soft belly, just above his belly button. The legs of his shorts are hiked up so high, they almost look like the underwear he swims in. Mike wants to taste the skin there, wonders if it would still taste like Quarry water. </p><p>“What? What do you need?” Mike’s never heard his voice sound like this before, so deep and raspy like when some of the older farmhands smoke next to the garage. </p><p>“<em>Miiiike.</em>” Eddie emphasizes Mike’s name by squeezing hard on his covered dick and letting his head drop against the ground, dirt getting in his hair. </p><p>Mike bites his own lips, he doesn’t know what to do, praying he’s making the right move when he lets his hand reach out towards Eddie’s smooth skin.</p><p>“Eddie, do you... Do you want me to—”</p><p>Eddie lets out a cute squeaky whimper, squeezing his eyes closed and nods his head in jerky motions, like he can’t control what he’s doing. Mike always thinks Eddie is cute, but doesn’t know the right word for what he thinks Eddie is in this moment. Mike knows they shouldn’t be doing this. Doesn’t know much about sex, but knows he’s not supposed to be having it. Knows for sure that he’s not supposed to want to have it with Eddie on the floor of the dirty clubhouse after choking him. But they do a lot of stuff they aren’t supposed to down here, and Mike’s sure he couldn’t tear himself away from Eddie right now even if he wanted to. </p><p>Mike feels his clammy, hot palm with the tips of his fingers and wipes them on his own thighs before reaching down and circling his long fingers around Eddie’s wrists. Mike tugs gently, hears a gasp come from Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s eyes pop open to look at where they touch with amazement. He slowly looks up into Mike’s face and withdraws his hands to place them flat on the ground at his sides. Eddie nods again.</p><p>Mike looks from Eddie’s glossed over eyes to his tented shorts. He can see Eddie’s dick better now that he’s closer. Mike’s arm reaches out and he lets his fingertips just <em> graze </em> the tip of it, feels the way Eddie’s thighs tense under him. Eddie is small, smaller than Mike’s dick, but not like a little kid anymore either. Mike traces the warm shape of Eddie, listening to Eddie whimper and gasp like he wants this just as much as he needs it.</p><p>Mike lays his palm against Eddie’s cock like he did is throat, strong and sure and flat. Eddie moans and presses into it desperately, and Mike feels fire shoot through his veins and blaze his cheeks. He’s sure you could fry an egg on his forehead right now, and it still wouldn’t look more stupid that what his face must look like being able to touch Eddie this way.</p><p>Mike squeezes his hand and feels the distinction of Eddie’s balls, shaft, and head. All of Eddie fits in his larger hand, he doesn’t even need both of them and thinking about that for too long makes Mike feel faint so he shifts his face down and captures Eddie’s open mouth with his own.</p><p>Mike’s never kissed anyone. Sometimes at night, when he hugs his extra pillow, he will press his mouth to it and breathe his warm air into it. A mockery of a kiss. He’s pretended it was Eddie once or twice, but he knows that doesn’t count. </p><p>Mike’s sure Eddie hasn’t kissed anyone before either. But if he’s going to make Eddie come, he feels like it's respectful to kiss him first. Neither one of them know what they’re doing, basically just breathing wet into each other’s mouths while their lips touch. Eddie is panting and moaning and shaking under Mike’s mouth and hand. Mike licks tentatively into Eddie’s mouth like he’s seen some of the older kids in town do. That really does something because Eddie’s cock twitches under his palm and he lets out a stream of <em> MikeMikeMike </em> into his mouth.</p><p>“Do you do this to yourself?” Mike can’t help but speak the question into Eddie’s lips. </p><p>“Not like this.” Eddie sounds beautiful. Mike doesn’t know what that means, but Eddie sounds like how flowers smell and he never wants them to stop. </p><p>The steady stream of whines Eddie lets out sound like when he was being choked. Mike doesn’t know much about sex, but he doesn’t think choking is part of it. If it is, and he just doesn’t know, then he thinks Eddie really likes it in that way. </p><p>Mike brings up his hand that isn’t grinding into Eddie’s cock, and rests it on Eddie’s throat. Just wanting to give the idea of choking again. Eddie goes perfectly still. On a hunch, Mike flexes his fingers, and gives some very faint pressure against the sides of Eddie's throat.</p><p>Eddie’s entire body seizes, and then heaves like an asthma attack. Mike feels dampness spread across the shorts material under his hand as Eddie’s cock twitches. Mike really wishes he could have seen it come out of him, thinks about how much he wants to taste Eddie’s come if it's anywhere as heady as his spit.</p><p>Eddie pulls Mike’s hand off of himself to bring it up to his face. Mike watches from barely an inch away as Eddie pecks kisses on his knuckles, feather light.</p><p>“Show me how you do it, Mikey.”</p><p>Mike’s cock throbs in his shorts and he rushes to unbutton them. Too desperate to be embarrassed anymore. He pops the button and Eddie sits up across from him, watches.</p><p>Mike stalls out, making eye contact, but Eddie surges forward and kisses him again. Licks his tongue clumsily, getting spit all over both of their mouths and chins. It’s still the best thing Mike’s ever felt. </p><p>“You taste sweet.” Eddie mutters the words and lets them fall onto Mike’s tongue.</p><p>“I had fruit gum earlier.”</p><p>“I really like you.” Eddie turns and smiles that confession into Mike’s cheek, which relaxes Mike, like he’s sure Eddie wanted it to. He’s still bravest. Eddie reaches down and drags Mike’s fly down, like he’s desperate to get to Mike’s cock. Maybe he is. Wouldn’t that be something? Mike gasps as Eddie pulls his heated flesh down into the cool underground air. </p><p>“It’s<em> big</em>.” Eddie’s sweet mouth is open as he stares down at Mike, hard and out in the open. Mike thinks he’s going to cry. He keeps thinking he shouldn’t be letting Eddie do this, but that’s not fair to Eddie. He should be able to take what he needs.</p><p>Eddie places Mike’s hand over his own which rests at the base of Mike’s dick.</p><p>“Use my hand. Show me how you do it.”</p><p>Mike lets out a mortifying noise and chases Eddie’s lips again,<em> needing </em> to feel them. Wants to bite against the velvet heat of them and feel the buzz of Eddie moaning into his mouth again. Mike can’t last long just jerking <em> himself </em> off, let alone with the hand of the cutest boy he’s ever met. He wants to make the most of it. </p><p>Mike closes his fingers around the top of Eddie’s hand, soft against his dripping cock. Mike looks down, Eddie does the same. The sweat on their foreheads mixing together like their spit. Mike wants every single piece of himself to mix with Eddie, like sugar dissolving into water placed out for the bees. </p><p>They both watch as Mike’s long, thick fingers fit in between Eddie’s slender ones and he starts to move their hands along his twitching cock. It’s dry, usually Mike spits on his hand when he does this, but doesn’t want to spook Eddie and he doesn’t need it to be smooth, he’s so close already. Mike can see the small dark spot in Eddie’s shorts where he came from this angle, wonders if Eddie would let him scoop it out of his shorts and use it on himself.</p><p>Mike uses their joined hands to stroke himself loosely, twisting at the head. Eddie’s mewling and placing little kitten licks against Mike’s parted lips and Mike is so <em> close, </em>he’s going to— </p><p>“Let me see it, Mikey.”</p><p>Mike feels like his entire skeleton is ripped from inside of him like a tablecloth out from under the table setting in those old movies Eddie's mom likes. He only strokes one more time before he explodes and comes more than he ever has in the year he’s been touching himself. </p><p>They’re both still looking down, faces knocking against each other, as Mike’s come shoots and drips over both of their knuckles. Mike thinks he might just come again from the sight of it dripping in between Eddie’s dirt-stained fingers. Eddie pecks a kiss on Mike’s temple, pulls himself away from Mike’s softening cock. Eddie rears his head back a couple inches, as he lifts his come-wet hand to his eye line. Spreading his fingers, watching the creamy liquid stretch and drip. </p><p>“I don’t come like this. Never this much. You’re so big.” Eddie sounds awestruck as he looks at Mike with his big, sparkly eyes, pink high on his cheekbones. He giggles.</p><p>Mike starts to tuck himself back in, not sure what else to do, just wants to run home or hug Eddie or something else equally devastating. Eddie looks right at him, and licks his—<em> Mike’s </em> come off of his middle finger. </p><p>Mike squeaks, but Eddie just smirks and uses his shirt to wipe the rest of the come off. Mike tries not to think about Eddie going home with Mike’s come on his shirt and his own come staining his shorts. Mike wonders if Eddie wanted to do this all along, another way to spite his mom. Like how dirty he lets himself get outside now, or smoking.</p><p>Eddie sighs, lets his back fall against the wall of the clubhouse, before reaching out and grabbing the cigarette he let go out earlier. There’s still about half left. He brings it to his lips, which are shiny with spit and Mike’s come. He lights it and takes a big inhale. </p><p>“Oh.” Eddie looks at the cigarette as he exhales. Mike slides over and sits next to Eddie, mirroring his posture, pressing their sweaty legs together thigh to ankle.</p><p>“What?” </p><p>Eddie smiles like a daffodil in bloom. </p><p>“This is the first one of these that doesn’t feel like I’m choking.”</p><p>Mike watches Eddie smoke, traces down his free arm, his thigh with his fingertip absently. Mike is scared, he’s scared that Eddie will freak out later and not want to see him. He’s scared that he made something worse for Eddie now that he kissed him and came on him. He’s scared that Eddie is going to get in trouble and not be able to come out for a couple weeks like he sometimes does. Eddie squeezes Mike’s knee and leans over to kiss him chastely. </p><p>Mike’s scared of what could happen, but he’s not scared of Eddie.</p><p>Mike has seen Eddie, the smallest of them all, yell until his voice is hoarse charging forward into the water during the rock war. Mike has seen Eddie scream more viciously than any of the rest of them before drop kicking Pennywise in his big, gnarled face. Eddie in defense is like a bee, small and fast, buzzing with energy and ready to <em>die</em> if it means his final act would be to shove a stinger deep into his enemy’s chest. </p><p>Eddie is like a bee, but he called Mike sweet. Bees need sugar water.</p>
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